


Dear Diary

by angeryeva



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Diary/Journal, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Nightmares, Nogitsune, Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Nogitsune Trauma, Panic Attacks, Post-Nogitsune, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21819757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeryeva/pseuds/angeryeva
Summary: The thing about possession is that they sometimes leave traces. When Noshiko told Stiles he was “more you than the Nogitsune”, they just assumed that meant the dark spirit was completely gone. Oh, how wrong they were.In which the Nogitsune isn't done with Stiles, and Kira gives Stiles a diary to cope with the trauma.
Relationships: Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 11
Kudos: 82





	1. Hello, Stiles

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my first Teen Wolf fanfiction :)
> 
> Leave kudos if you enjoyed lol

Chapter 1

The thing about possession is that they sometimes leave traces. When Noshiko told Stiles he was “more you than the Nogitsune”, they just assumed that meant the dark spirit was completely gone. Oh, how wrong they were. 

Stiles eventually convinced his dad he felt good enough to go to school (even though everybody knew he didn’t). But news travels fast in a small town like Beacon Hills, so when Stiles walks through those dreaded High School doors, he immediately notices the whispers. Eyes bore into his back, walking through the hallways. People stop in their tracks on their way to class. Stiles ignores them all. He’s become quite good at ignoring, actually. His friends know from experience. 

It’s not that he wants to ignore his friends. He just doesn’t really… want to talk to them. Okay, maybe he does want to ignore them. But it’s probably for the best. After all, it’s his fault Allison- It’s his fault. His friends are better off without him. 

He’s shivering when he gets to Chemistry. Ever since he emerged from a pile of century-old bandages vomited out by an evil kitsune, he just can’t seem to get warm. So when he enters the classroom with a big sweater, even though it’s the middle of august, Scott looks concerned. 

“Dude, you look terrible.” He whispers (very unsubtle) from behind. Stiles expects himself to respond with a sarcastic comment like ‘wow, thanks’ or ‘you don’t look too amazing yourself’, but he surprisingly stays silent. Scott noticed as well. 

“Stiles? You okay?” He tries again. When Stiles doesn’t answer, and class starts, he doesn’t push any further. 

-

They try to talk to him on multiple occasions. But any time Kira corners him in French, or Lydia bumps into him on his way to class, he ignores them. After school, Scott seems to have enough. 

“Stiles, you can’t keep ignoring us.” He says when he finally catches him at his locker. 

“Really? I seem to be doing such a good job.” Stiles mutters under his breath. Scott sighs. 

“We’re worried about you, dude. You have talk to us.” Stiles slams his locker shut. 

“I don’t _have_ to do anything, Scott. Just- leave me alone, okay? I just need some time.” Something about the look on his face (or the massive bags under his eyes) must convince Scott, because he reluctantly agrees. 

“Fine. But, Stiles, if you ever need to talk to someone… we’re here for you. ‘Cause that’s what friends do.” He rests his hand on Stiles’ shoulder for a second, and walks away. When Stiles knows for sure he’s gone, he slumps against his locker and slides down to the floor. 

“Fucking Scott…” he mumbles. Why does he need to be so fucking selfless and good all the time? How does he never get tired of being the good guy? He knows he does…

Wait. What? What was that supposed to mean? Stiles shakes his head and manages to push himself off the ground. “Stupid voice in my head.”

-

That night, he can’t sleep (as usual). Or he doesn’t want to sleep. What’s the difference? Instead, he’s on his phone, scrolling through his text messages with Allison. 

_What was the English homework, again?_

_Do u know where Scott is?_

_Danger. School. Now._

_Lydia says we should see a movie with everyone sometime._

_Stiles, where are you? I’m worried._

_Why is Scott such an idiot?_

He’s sure anyone reading their history would be a bit confused about the contrast between the texts. But it gives him a comforting feeling. Like she’s still there. Even though she isn’t. And it’s his fault. 

Before he knows it, Stiles falls into a deep sleep. 

-

He’s standing before the Nemeton again. The familiar sight brings a shiver down his spine. But what truly terrifies him is the figure sitting on the tree stump. 

“Hello, Stiles. Welcome back.”

-

His dad has a late shift that day, so he and Stiles have breakfast together. Stiles made pancakes, but snatched the syrup before the Sheriff could drizzle it on his pile. 

“You know that’s not good for you, dad.” Stiles says. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. But can’t you let me have this just once?” 

“Dad. No.” The Sheriff laughs and returns to the pancakes. The morning seemed too good to be true. Pancakes, his dad being there, not waking up feeling like total shit…

“How are you sleeping, son?” His dad said, with an innocent look on his face, but Stiles knew better. He knew his dad was aware of the nightmares and insomnia. 

“I actually slept very well last night.” He admitted. 

“Really?” His dad smiled. 

“Like a rose.” Stiles finished his breakfast. “I had a nightmare, but I just can’t remember what it was…” 

“Well, that’s an improvement, I guess.” The Sheriff finished his plate too, and stood to clean up. 

“Yeah… I guess…”

-

Scott seemed to keep to his word. He and his friends didn’t bother him the whole day. Even when he was partnered up with Kira during biology, did she not talk to him. Well, not more than usual. Kira, like himself, was a very chatty person when nervous. And apparently sitting next to a former Nogitsune who killed your best friend and to whom you are now forbidden to speak was a bit nerve-inducing. Who knew?

Still, he managed. After class was dismissed, Kira stops him. 

“Look, I know I’m supposed to give you time and not talk to you or anything,” she says, “but I wanted to give you something.” She digs a new-looking notebook out from her bag, and hands it to Stiles. He raises his eyebrows. 

“It’s a diary. Well- you don’t have to use it as a diary, but- whenever I’m having trouble sleeping, or something like that, the diary helps.” She fiddles with her jacket, looking anywhere but his face. 

“Just- writing about your day helps your brain process all the things that happened. It can help you sleep, and I noticed you weren’t really sleeping- I mean- you look like you could use some rest. Anyway, it helps me so I thought, maybe it could help you too?” 

She ends her nervous rant with a flushed face. Stiles can’t help but laugh. An actual, non-sarcastic laugh. 

“Kira, if I didn’t knew you were dating Scott, I’d almost think you had a crush on me.” Kira’s eyes widen comically. 

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Kira. I know we don’t have the best relationship out of the whole bunch, but you don’t have to feel like you can’t talk to me, okay?”

The words coming out of his mouth surprise him. They seemed so smooth, and out of character. Kira looks surprised as well. She flushes even more, but also seems relieved. 

“Thanks, Stiles. I-“ The bell ringing interrupts her, and they’re soon on their way to the next class. Stiles puts the diary in his bag, even though he isn’t even sure he will use it. Still, there might be some truth to Kira’s (nervous and fast) words. 

-

He tries it that night. He knows from movies that you should write something poetic and symbolic of the experiences from that day, but he can’t seem to think of anything. So he just settles for a boring description of the things he did that day. 

_Dear Diary,_

_Fuck, that’s so cliché. Kira gave me this diary today. Something about helping me sleep? Anyway, here’s the things I did today, hope you enjoy:_

_I woke up  
I had breakfast with my dad  
I went to school  
I went home  
I did some homework  
I made dinner  
I waited for dad to show up but he called to say he had to work late so…  
I ate dinner alone  
I did some more homework  
I played Halo  
I wrote in my diary_

_This is so stupid._

-

After staring up at the ceiling for a few hours, he falls asleep to see himself standing before the Nemeton again. His previous dream comes back to him. The Nogitsune sits on the cut down tree again, with the all-too-familiar game of Gō in front of him. 

“Hello Stiles.”


	2. He's going to kill me

Chapter 2

The sweater isn’t enough to keep him warm anymore. He pulls a jacket over the layers he was already wearing, and deems it enough. His dad has an early shift, so Stiles has breakfast alone. Well, more like an apple and a glass of milk. Even with such a small meal, he almost feels like throwing up. 

Never mind that, he has to go to school.

\- 

He could have predicted it. Even though Scott tried his best, more than a day without offering help was beyond him. So Stiles keeps catching Scott sneaking concerned glances at him. Stiles ignores them. If Scott wants to talk, all Stiles has to do was wait.

Kira nudges his arm. He notices Scott looking surprised. 

“Stiles, did you, uhm, y’know?” She whispers, referring to the diary. Stiles chuckles.

“Yeah, I did.” Kira’s face lights up with a smile. She turns back to the board. Yeah, Stiles really doesn’t deserve friends like them.

\- 

He’d totally forgotten about lacrosse. He isn’t in any condition to play, of course. And to be honest, he doesn’t really want to either. That’s why he snuck out of class just after the bell rang, and knocks on coach’s office. 

“What’s up, Stilinski?” Coach says upon him entering. Stiles drops his bag on the ground.

“I’m quitting the team.” 

-

He’d meant to clear his locker out before practice began. Unfortunately, nothing ever goes his way.

“Stiles?” Yup. That’s what he’s afraid of.

“Stiles, what are you doing?” Scott says.

“Clearing out my locker.” Scott leans against his own. He has that stupid worried look on his face again.

“Why?” He says. Stiles sighs, and shuts the metal door. 

“Be honest. Do I look like I can run more than five minutes?” He snaps. Scott looks him up and down, like he hadn’t realised how bad his best friend was doing. He shakes his head.

“Then how do you expect me to play lacrosse?” He says, maybe a bit too loudly. His shoulders slump and he takes a deep breath. “Scott. I’m sorry, but things happened. Things changed. I know you like to pretend we’ll get over it and everything will be fine but- That’s the thing.” He lets his back lean against the closed locker and he takes a deep breath.

“Things aren’t fine.”

Scott lets his hand rest on Stiles’ shoulder.

“Then talk to us.”

Stiles smiles sadly. 

“It’s not that simple, Scotty.” 

\- 

The never ending cycle of school brings a bit of comfort to Stiles’ life. But even boring classes and easy tests can’t help him sleep. 

At least he doesn’t remember his nightmares anymore. Still, he writes. He isn’t sure if it even helps, but putting your thoughts on paper never hurt anyone, right?

On one particularly sleepless night, he browses through his previous entries. 

_Dear Diary,_

_I started opening with that cliché line as a joke, but I’ve found myself doing it unironically now. My life is such a mess. I quit the team today, which means I’m on Scott’s radar again. Not that I was ever off it. Stupid Scott and his stupid puppy eyes._

_Dear Diary,_

_Dad didn’t come home today, so I called the station. They said something about an emergency shift? He’s never home these days. Last time he threw himself into his work like this, mom had just died. It’s probably my fault._

_Dear Diary,_

_I wish dad would stop drinking._

Wait. Why did he write that? He can’t even remember dad drinking. Or him writing that. 

He grabs his pen to cross out the confusing sentence, but he stops. What if his dad was drinking? No, that would be absurd. Last time he drank-

Fuck it. Can’t hurt to check, right? Stiles kicks off his blanket and snuck downstairs, careful not to wake said dad. He turns the kitchen light on, and opens the cabinet where his dad (not so) secretly stores the whiskey. The bottle, which was previously entirely full, is half-empty.

-

He dreams of the Nemeton again. The Nogitsune’s voice greets him again. Stiles stomps towards the tree.

“Why can’t I remember?” He demands. The dark spirit laughs, but doesn’t answer.

-

What previously felt like a comforting cycle of school-homework-sleep-repeat, now feels like a dream. The days go by in a haze, and Stiles isn’t aware of the things happening around him. He just goes to class, answers the occasional questions, eats lunch alone, goes home, does his homework. After that, he writes in his diary.

He’s vaguely aware of going to the hospital that day, and smelling the metallic scent of blood.

He feels most awake when he falls asleep. He doesn’t have to think of Scott’s concerned glances, Lydia’s lingering touches or Kira’s stutters. He can just play.

He’s gotten quite good at Gō. Although he knows the Nogitsune is winning, he almost seems to enjoy his dreams. It lets him think. 

After his turn, the Nogitsune spoke.

“Do you remember what you did today, Stiles?” The voice sounds amused. Stiles thinks back. The day feels clouded. 

“I… poured my dad’s whiskey into the sink.” Stiles says. 

“Yes, and what else?”

“I ordered more whiskey with my dad’s card.” The bandages around his hands muffle the applause. 

“Very good, Stiles.” Stiles’s head snaps to the Nogitsune.

“What are you planning?”

-

He feels more lucid that day. His room is a mess, and when he looks into the mirror, he looks like death. His face reminds him of when the Nogitsune walked around in his body. He moves to the kitchen to see a total mess of dishes. His stomach turns when he thinks of eating, so he doesn’t.

-

He has a panic attack at school. He’s on his way to French when it hits him. The diary. The dreams. He doesn’t remember completely, but he knows enough. 

He’s back.

He can’t get air into his lungs. His vision blackens. The world is spinning. Run. He’s back. He’s back. He’s back. Stiles hears a voice calling his name from afar. Hands guide him to the floor. The world is far away. 

“Breath, Stiles.” A voice calls. Right. Breathing. He inhales, but no air gets past his throat. He tries again. Breath.

Scott is there. Scott’s there, and he’ll stay there. Stiles breathes. He can see again. Scott is looking at him with his stupid puppy eyes. 

“Are you okay?” 

Stiles sobs. 

“I- I’m sorry. Scott. I’m sorry. I can’t- can’t do this.” Scott makes soothing noises, but Stiles shakes his head.

“No. I know you want to help- But you can’t. You can’t.”

“I don’t understand.” Stiles finally manages to look him in the eyes.

“He’s going to kill me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I actually really hate this ending, but I wont be so cruel to only post 2 of 3 chapters and leave you on a cliffhanger. 
> 
> So, just try to enjoy the monstrosity of a chapter this became, and please don't take this too seriously :)

Chapter 3

“Stiles. Please talk to me! Who’s going to kill you?” Scott calls after him. But Stiles just runs. 

He runs through the hallway. He runs through the door. He runs to his jeep. Scott runs after him, but he isn’t fast enough. He stops in his tracks as Stiles drives away.

Stiles unlocks his front door with shaking hands. He stumbles up the stairs, swings open his door. It’s there. The diary. It’s on his desk. His breath stops in his throat. He remembers the taunting words from the Nogitsune. He reaches to the small book. He slowly opens it.

_Dear Diary,_

_I wish dad would stop drinking._

_Dear Diary,_

_My dad came home today. He wasn’t happy. I made dinner, but he smashed the plate against the wall._

_Dear Diary,_

_He hit me. I’m scared. He just keeps drinking._

_Dear Diary,_

_I think he’s going to kill me._

It all comes back to him. The trip to the hospital. The whiskey he bought online. The things he wrote in the diary. It’s all a setup. He remembers now.

He’s going to frame his dad for murder.

-

It was the perfect plan. Keep a diary to document his dad’s slow spiral into insanity. Make sure the evidence can be found in his bank account by buying lots of alcohol. Stealing blood transfusion supplies from the hospital, to set up the murder scene. 

Stiles doesn’t know when he passes out, but he’s at the Nemeton again. He climbs up to sit in front of the Nogitsune.

“Why?”

“You know why.” The Nogitsune says. “It’s the final move. It’s the end of the game. It’s my victory. It’s my revenge.” He moves his last piece onto the board.

“I won.”

-

They wake up. It feels good to have a body again. 

They open the closet, and fish out the bag of Stiles’ blood from a hidden shoebox. They hide the diary in the desk. When they enter the kitchen, they pour half a bottle of whiskey in the sink, and smash the bottle onto the ground. They get a pair of scissors from a drawer, and make a tiny hole in the bag of blood. They sprays drops of blood on a cabinet, on the stove, on the fridge. They empty the bag on the floor. 

They smile. This is going to be good.

They will have to get rid of the cell phone. They get some blood on it, and throw it in the trash can outside. They return to Stiles’ bedroom, to change into new clothes. They burn their old ones, just enough to make sure they still look like Stiles’ old clothes. 

They put on a hoodie and sunglasses, and grab their bag. Inside is a hair dye kit, a change of clothes, money and the last bottle of whiskey. The only thing to do now is mop up the puddle of blood in the kitchen.

The Sheriff is not going to know what hit him.

-

A Nogitsune’s only goal is chaos, strife and pain. And although Beacon Hills is an oasis of said things, it’s also home to some meddling guard dogs who like to play the hero. They won’t make the same mistake twice, so that meant getting the hell out of Beacon Hills as fast as possible. But not before creating some delicious chaos, of course.

They stole a car from an old lady, who probably didn’t even notice. After driving a safe distance away, they checked in at a small motel, and checked the news. 

Breaking News: 17-year-old missing from Beacon Hills. Father and Sheriff arrested on suspicion of murder.


End file.
